


Birds and Bees Do It

by godofpancakes (Vera_DragonMuse)



Series: Steve Lokison [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, Fatherhood, Loki is an overprotective father, Love, Love Hurts, M/M, Manpain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-14
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_DragonMuse/pseuds/godofpancakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki cracks open Tony's heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birds and Bees Do It

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This piece contains a consensual sexual relationship between Tony at age 15 with a 19 year old college student. If mentions of underage sex disturb you, you may want to skip that part or this fic altogether.
> 
> The word rape does come up in this piece regarding what Loki does to Tony, even though it is not sexual or deeply discussed. If that is a trigger word or concept for you, then you may want to skip this one.

“No.” Tony folded his arms and glared upwards. “Just...no. It’s adults costumed as giant animals awkwardly skating. That’s not entertainment, it’s an internet porn phenomena waiting to happen.”

“It’ll be fun!” Steve protested, one wheedling hand already reaching out for him.

“Are you fucking crazy?” He started to ask, then stopped because Steve loved Disney and Tony felt like a heel every time he teased him about it. “Anyway, we’ll be mobbed by the press.”

“Fine.” Steve’s hand dropped. “Is it your ribs?”

“No.” They were throbbing warningly, cracked and bruised. “Go on without me, all right? I’ve got a ton of things to do.”

“You know,” Steve leaned down and Tony obligingly closed the gap between them with a heated kiss. “I could stay home.”

“And let down the God of Thunder? I think he made his own mouse ears.” He smiled against Steve’s lips, “I’ll be here when you get back. Bring me a souvenir while you’re at it.”

“You got it.” Steve grinned, kissed him again then turned on his heels and left.

Tony slumped against Dummy’s cool iron frame.

“He’ll only find out later that you were lying and that will make it worse.”

For a split second, Tony was convinced that that Dummy had gained sentience without his permission. Then his pain addled mind cleared and he opened his eyes. Loki grinned wickedly at him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Can we just not do this today?” He pulled over a stool and sat on it before he collapsed.

“Do you know why I don’t trust you with my son, Stark?” Loki drew over a matching stool, settling down as if for a cozy chat.

“Because you’re an insane overprotective asshole?” Tony snapped. A sharp pressure cut behind his eye, signaling an oncoming migraine.

“Because you’re one of mine.” Holding up one elegant hand, he cut a gesture through the air and the pressure ceased. “God of Mischief is not a title I wear nor a job description, it’s what I am and all the liars and tricksters of the world belong to me. I know your mind and I want it no where near my son.”

“You realize how stupid that is, right?” Spat Tony. “If you hate me because I’m like you then maybe what you need is some time on the couch with Dr. Freud.”

“You’re an impertinent little shit.” Loki sighed. “I had so hoped this wouldn’t have to be difficult.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“I wish I could be sure in that knowledge.” Another sharp gesture and the pressure behind his eye returned. “Show me. I know your mind, but I don’t know your heart. Rip it out for me.”

“Does Steve know you do this shit behind his back? Because honestly-”

“Shut up.”

Tony’s teeth clacked together against his will.

“Look at me.”

His eyes locked onto green fire that blazed through him. The pressure became out right pain.

“Show me how you love, Tony Stark. Show me your heart.”

~*~

 

The first time Tony fell in love, it was with a little ginger haired girl who stole the extra cookie from his Captain Kirk lunchbox with a wink and smile. He chased her around at recess, always falling just short of catching her until the bell ran and she disappeared back into her own classroom. He was five and she a mature seven. They traded paperclips and secrets for three weeks before she moved on for someone her own age.

He nursed his first heartbreak with violently green Kool Aid that he mixed with no adult supervision. The resulting sugar high powered him through building a partial replica of the Enterprise out of Lego. Only he miscalculated the scale so it wound up taking over the greater portion of the living room.

“What the hell-” His father wandered into the living room, the right side of his mustache sticking straight up. He must have been sleeping in the lab again. “What are you doing?”

“I’m expressing myself.” Tony put another block onto the cockpit.

“Well, go do it in your playroom.” Howard slumped onto the couch. “You’ve got enough space in this house without using up mine. And take that thing with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony put his arms around the massive structure and started to tug it towards the stairs. It disintegrated almost immediately. The loss was too much for his five year old heart. Tears burned his eyes and fell down his cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” His father demanded.

“I’m not.” Scrubbing his sleeve over his eyes, Tony went back to picking up the pieces of his broken ship.

“Don’t cry.” And suddenly his father was there, kneeling next to him on the floor with a soft, unfamiliar look in his eye. “Whatever it is, it isn’t worth. Nothing is worth crying over in this whole terrible world, Tony. Don’t bother.”

“There was a girl and she- ” He started to say, then stopped. His father wasn’t really looking at him, wasn’t listening. Instead, he was looking over Tony’s shoulder, but when Tony turned to see what he was staring at, there was nothing there. Just an old photo of some soldiers. “Dad?”

“Go to your room, Tony.” He didn’t sound angry, only very tired. “And try not to blow anything up before dinner.”

Tony went. There was a spectacular blanket fort in his bedroom and he headed straight to the back corner where he’d tucked away a pink hair ribbon and a rough crayon drawing of two children holding hands and smiling. In a year, he’d find them again and throw the drawing away. The ribbon would hold together two pieces of pipe so he could weld them together, before getting forever lost in the warren of his lab. But for today, they were treasures still and he poured over them with a flashlight and tried to make sense of it all.

 

 

Love, he decided, was a spectacular failure of an experiment and he’d never bother again. He held this resolution as he sped through school, alienated his peers and built the first rudiments of the A.I. that would one day be JARVIS. MIT accepted him on the AI alone at the tender age of fifteen. Still waiting for his final growth spurt, he wandered the hallowed halls of learning like a toddler lost in a department store. The winning smile that had coaxed high school girls to flirt made the older girls croon over him like little mothers and the boys to call him things like ‘champ’ and ‘squirt’.

“I hate everyone.” He announced to his tiny dorm room. Given his age, he’d even been denied a roommate.

“Music, sir?” Proto-JARVIS asked from where he lay in pieces over the empty second bed. The voice was all wrong then, tinny and uneven.

“I want you to kill me.” He flopped down face first on his bed.

“I cannot do that, sir. The Three Laws of Robotics state-”

“I’ve got to stop loading you with science fiction novels.”

Someone knocked loudly on his door and yelled out, "Room Check. Hide your porn and beer!"

He ran a hand through his hair and swung open the door. A slender reed of a boy in a tight black t-shirt and tighter jeans looked him dead in the eye. His hair was a dark fuzz, shorn nearly to the skull. He radiated a dangerous energy that rattled just under his skin. Tony swallowed hard.

“Hey, I’m your new RA. Last one had a nervous breakdown over quantum physics for something. Call me Curtis, no nicknames need apply.” He glanced down at the clipboard he had. “You’re my prodigy, right? They read me a whole riot act about how I’m not supposed to damage you.”

“I’m not fragile.” Tony sneered.

“Yeah, yeah.” Curtis pushed past him and looked around the room, rapidly checking things off on clipboard. “Try not to be too big a pain in my ass, ok?”

Something under Curtis’ shirt moved. Tony blinked.

“Uh, do you have an animated tumor or something?”

“Oh, that’s just Spoons.” He reached into his shirt and pulled a large brown rat. “Fork is back in my room, sleeping off a sugar rush.”

“Thought you couldn’t have pets.”

“So what? You going to narc on me?” Curtis raised one thin eyebrow and Tony shook his head. “Good. Your room is depressing the hell out of me. Come on.”

Bemused, Tony trailed after him as Curtis went through the rest of the hallway, terrorizing everyone despite barely clearing five feet tall. He had a way of looking at people that made them squirm straight of their skin. A few times, he confiscated bottles of alcohol, shoving them into an already full book bag.

“Idiots.” Curtis laughed, hefting a half-full bottle of vodka. “Who hides things under their bed anymore?”

“What do you do with all of it?”

“Want to find out?” The smile was all sharp teeth and Tony studied it carefully, before returning it pitch perfect. “Awesome. Let’s go.”

They got drunk on cheap vodka and absinthe on the roof of the dorm. Tony had snuck drinks before, but this was different, like drinking liquid fire and surviving it. The night was incandescent, every star hyper-real and bright. Curtis’ skin glowed pearly in the moonlight. There was something feral about him and Tony wanted to own it, to be it.

“Do you come up here a lot?” Tony asked, trying to keep his eyes on the stars as his fingertips buzzed with longing.

“Only when my eyes are going cross from staring at numbers all day long.” Curtis huffed a breath, the rise and fall of his chest disturbing Spoons from a nap. “I want to just get into the lab and build some shit, you know?”

“Yeah,” Tony grinned, “yeah exactly. Theory sucks if you’re not getting down and dirty with it.”

“Down and dirty, huh?” Curtis laughed, “What do you know about getting dirty? Rich kid like you probably gets manicured.”

“Hell no!” Tony thrust out one of his hands, proud of the calluses and oil that’s already permanently encrusted under his nails. “I do my own work.”

“Oh yeah?” Curtis took the outstretched hand, cupping it both of his.

“Yeah.” Tony repeated, watching as pale fingers crept up his arm.

“You’re way too good looking to be fifteen.” Curtis bent his head and nipped at Tony’s wrist, before dropping his hold entirely. “Definitely jailbait.”

Nothing happened that night, but something had woken up in Tony, a new sense of potential power. He was wanted and that was enough leverage to move the world. While Curtis circled around him like a wolf getting a scent, Tony practiced patience.

“Come here.” Curtis finally said, coaxing Tony across the room and into his lap one Saturday night in winter, an empty bottle of rum at their feet. He drew Tony close and kissed him hungrily, one hand creeping under his shirt to rub circles over his back. “You taste so sweet.”

“I’m not.” Tony warned him, his own hands exploring new territory, “There’s nothing sweet about me.”

“Right, tough as nails. I forgot.” Curtis laughed into his mouth, pulled his t-shirt of his head and finally got down to the business of teaching Tony how to make someone else come undone.

It was by far the best class he took at MIT. For four months, they fucked their way through every position Curtis knew and some they had to invent. They always drank first and Curtis never stayed the night, but Tony liked being drunk and the beds were too small to share. In the first week of May, Tony looked into hypnotic dark eyes and said,

“I love you.”

“Yeah.” Curtis grinned, brushing a kiss over his cheek. “I love you too.”

The words were like a hit of heroin. Tony had to close his eyes against the sudden rush of pleasure. There was meaning under them, rich and promising. He went into finals feeling like a god, flying through exams and projects. When he finished, emerging into the bright light of a free summer, he knocked on Curtis’ door.

“Let’s go on a road trip.” He proposed. “I’m going to get a car this summer and we can-”

“I’m going home.” The door never even fully opened, just a defeated voice barely heard through a crack. “I got kicked out for buying liquor for underage students. I’m just lucky they didn’t find out I was fucking their pet prodigy on top of it or I’d be doing jail time too.”

“That’s bullshit, Curtis. Let me fight for you, I could-”

“It’s over, Tony. We had fun, but you need to leave me the hell alone before we ruin each others lives.”

“But you said-”

“I know what the fuck I said. I didn’t mean it, ok? Fuck. Just...go away, Tony. Find something safer to play with.” The door slammed shut again.

The only memento Curtis had left him was a bottle of Jack Daniels. Tony drank it as he drove his new car down the Pacific Coast Highway at a hundred and twenty miles an hour. The radio blasted something indescribably loud that drowned out any sound he might have made. Emptied, the bottle smashed against the pavement, sending up a spray of broken glass behind him.

 

“Champagne, sir?” A waitress held out a tray that was remarkably steady despite the rocking of the boat. The storm had crept up on the elegant party turning a placid yachting trip into a nightmare.

“I’m impressed by your diligence, but I think you’d be better off handing out Alka-Seltzer.” Tony laughed, hanging onto the railing as another debutante puked genteelly over the side. “Or life jackets.”

“I’m told we will reach port within the hour.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” He looked her over. Very pretty with long legs, a trim waist, creamy skin and copper bright hair. “Tell you what, let me take you out for a drink when we land. Call it a reward for extraordinary dedication to service.”

“No, thank you, sir.” She smiled a bland, customer service smile.

“C’mon, I know all the best restaurants here. I’m sure I could-”

“Tony!” Obadiah loomed out of the darkness, grabbing the handrail next to him. “I see you’ve still got your sea legs.”

“You look a little green there.” Tony grinned. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine, fine. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about that takeover.”

“I’m not arguing about this anymore.” Tony pursed his lips, “I think it’s too soon. They’re an interesting company, I’d like to see what they produce on their own.”

“It’s a mistake. We need to get them into the fold before they’re powerful enough to say no.”

And then he was in the water. Later, he would vaguely remember a hand on his back that could have been grabbing or pushing and then the swift motion of tumbling over the railing. He was a strong swimmer and he kept his head above the waves despite their growing height. Back on deck, he could make out Obadiah’s frantic yelling and a few other screams of distress. Threading through all of them were calm orders of woman. A lifesaver was flung out to him and he clung to it desperately. Five men in sodden tuxedos pulled him back on board, right at the sharp heels of the beautiful waitress. She knelt down and looked him over.

“Are you all right, sir?” She asked, one hand poised over his chest as if to start resuscitation.

“What’s your name?”

“Virginia Potts, sir.”

“You’re hired.” He slurred, then passed out.

Two weeks later, she was standing in his office impatiently tapping a folder just inside his field of vision.

“The Markus files, Mr. Stark. You need to complete these or the negotiations will fall through. Also, Dr. Allen said you didn’t show up for your appointment yesterday, so I rescheduled it. He’s agreed to come to your home to see you, but he can only do it on Wednesday. You have dinner with Mr. Stane in an hour, he wants to talk to you about the detonators for the new mines. I left the schematics with your espresso.” As she talked, she stacked and cleared the papers off his desk turning the disaster area into a respectable work surface. “Happy will be taking you directly to the airport after dinner, so you can head to Baltimore. The relevant files are already on the plane. Mr. Rhodes will not be able to accompany you, but he sends his regrets. I’ll arrange for the plane be made available for him if his plans change. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

“I love you.” He told her, deeply and sincerely.

“That’s kind of you, Mr. Stark.” She glanced up and gave him a slight smile. “Have a good trip.”

“Thank you, Ms. Potts.” He watched as she walked out the door in long confident strides.

His love for Pepper was utterly different than his feelings for any other person on the planet. She was his right arm, his better half, the cool head when he grew too passionate, the reason when all logic left him. She routinely picked him up, dusted him off and if necessary, rebuilt his ego from the ground up until he was ready to face the world again.

As the boundaries between them melted away into the thinnest of roleplay of boss and subordinate, Tony was convinced that no one in the world would ever know him like Pepper did. He wouldn’t want them too. She saw too sharply into the ugly rotting labyrinth that lay under his ribs, saw enough to know how to reach in and pull on something terrible and vital.

“You could kill me.” He confided one night months before she came to his bed. They were sitting side by side on the porch, years of documents spread between them as they rooted out all the sticky tendrils of Obadiah’s betrayal. “It would be easy. You probably wouldn’t even get caught.”

“Tony.” She opened another folder. “Why would I want to kill you?”

“You threatened to this morning. Because of the thing with the oil.”

“Oh, you mean the thing where you almost unbalanced an entire nation’s economy?” She briskly turned a page. “It wasn’t a real threat. You’re infuriating and impulsive, but I don’t want to kill you.”

“Well, even if you did, you wouldn’t admit it to me.” He pointed out. “So I’m not sure I can take you at your word.”

“Obadiah was a mad man.” She glanced up, sympathy writ large over her face. “I’m sorry he violated your trust, but I’m not him.”

“I knew he was a liar.” Tony frowned, “I didn’t trust him.”

“Of course, not.” She plucked out a sheet and set it aside.

And he looked at her folded into an uncomfortable wicker chair because he insisted on being outside instead of comfortably tucked away in the office. Her hair was flawlessly drawn back from her face, the last of her bright lipstick lingering on an empty water glass. It was late and she was probably starving, longing for her own bed in an apartment he’d never seen.

“I’m ordering pizza. Get Dummy to take the boxes inside, it’s freezing out here.” He got to his feet. “Go terrorize the coffee maker into working, we’re going to need a lot of it.”

She stood in one long elegant motion. When she moved past him into the house, he said quietly,

“Thank you, Ms. Potts.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Stark.” She flashed him one of her brilliant smiles before disappearing into the depths of the house.

When they did eventually start to date, little changed. She still ran his life and his heart, managing his business the best she could in whatever spare time was left. The only difference was that when she was ready to collapse, she did it in his bed. He watched the wrinkles deepen around the corner of her eyes, the tightness of her mouth that he could cajole to release less and less. Sometimes he started fights for no reason at all, except to see the fatigue disappear from her face to be replaced with flushed passion.

“This isn’t working.” He told her in the darkness of another too late night. Her face was bathed in the blue light of the arc reactor, throwing it into unreadable shadows. “I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m tougher than that, Tony.” She traced a hand around the metal where it met flesh. “I can take it.”

“I don’t want you too.” He stroked the shining fall of her hair. “I want you to be happy.”

“I love you.” She protested, hand stilling.

“That’s not the same thing.” He lifted his head just enough to brush a kiss over her forehead. “Anyway, I keep hearing this rumor that if you love someone, you’re supposed to set them free.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” One of her hands found his, lacing their fingers together. “You’d never actually let me go and I would never really leave.”

They didn’t sleep together again after that night, but Pepper never did leave. He needed no souvenirs because she was always at his elbow with a file, with a cup of coffee, with a lecture or a kind word. Pepper was her own memento.

 

The subtle pervasive chill of the house kept him from sleeping. He could have gotten up from the couch and gone to his bedroom or at least tugged a blanket out from under the coffee table, but he felt boneless and infinitely tired. Closing his eyes against dimming lights, his thoughts drifted to how he might adapt the suit to work well in water. Maybe could make an entirely separate version entirely for ocean based missions, even paint it yellow for Pepper’s sake. She liked the Beatles and it would probably make her laugh. Hell, he could name it after the damn yacht they’d met on.

He licked his lips and grimaced, the lingering taste of salt water invading. He’d showered as soon as they’d reached headquarters, scoured himself raw. There wasn’t a trace of the ocean left on his skin, but something brackish lingered in the back of this throat.

“Tony?”

“Mmm?” He kept his eyes firmly closed, blocking out any expression of concern or sympathy.

The couch cushions shifted under him and warm hands encircled his shins, picking up his legs before dropped them back down over strong thighs. A thick fleecy blanket fell over him, careful hands tucking it in. He drifted off to sleep to the sound of a pen scratching unevenly over paper. When he woke, the lights were dimmed and finished paper work sat in neat stacks on the coffee table. His sleep blurred eyes plucked out ‘Incident Report’ from the top of one and ‘Damage Assessment’ from another. His legs were still in Steve’s lap. Muscular shoulders were slumped. Delicately, Tony prodded his stomach with a toe.

“Hey.” Steve protested sleepily.

“Coulson got you doing his pen pushing now?” He sat up, then slumped back over into Steve’s side, taking the blanket with him. It was covered in fluffy sheep gamboling among marshmallowey clouds. “Where the hell did this come from?”

“I’m team leader. It’s not all barking orders.” Steve shrugged, one arm creeping over Tony’s shoulders drawing him closer in. “I think it’s Clint’s.”

“I require photographic evidence of that. After the jello in the pool incident, that asshole is owed payback.” Some of the sheep were even snuggling, comic hearts above their wooly skulls. “JARVIS can scan the security footage. I’ll blow up a picture of him snuggling sheep and insert it in my next presentation to SHIELD agents. Revenge will be sweet. ”

“You’re deranged.” Steve kissed his forehead. “I’m glad you’re all right. You scared me there.”

“I had it.” He resisted the urge to fight off the concern. It rubbed him the wrong way, sending the hairs on his arms tingling in annoyance.

“I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry when I see you plunge into the water wearing a half-ton of metal. I’m picky that way.” Fingers tightened briefly on his arm. “We should go up to bed.”

“In a minute.” Tony buried his face in Steve’s neck. The smell of stale sweat and a faint trace of vanilla shampoo enfolded him. “The worry is mutual.”

“I didn’t think you really worried about anything.”

How little he knew.

“I got you something.” He said without his mind quite giving his lips permission.

“I don’t need anything.” But Steve’s eyes were already brighter with interest and Tony grinned.

“Hold on a second.” He slipped away from the promise of comfort and warmth, heading down to the lab. The envelope had come in that morning and he’d meant to give it to Steve as soon as it arrived, but everything went to hell with the jeopardized oil tanker.

He hesitated feeling the slight weight of the package. It didn’t take his incredible genius to know the score. As soon as he gave this to Steve, he would lose a vital piece of him, something that someone else had the right too. He considered slipping it back into his papers and seizing on the watch he’d picked out for Steve’s next birthday present. His lover would never know the difference.

“Yeah, no worries Stark, that’s me.” He turned the slim envelope over and over in his hands.

It would kill him when Steve left. There just wasn’t enough left of Tony Stark to survive losing someone else. Oh, he wouldn’t curl up and die like a Victorian heroine or anything, but he knew himself too well to deny the inevitable. He’d start drinking again to dull the pain, take foolish risks and run himself dry until something snapped.

Biting his lip, he shoved the envelope into his pocket and climbed the stairs again. Bundled up in the ridiculous blanket, Steve waited eagerly for him like an overgrown kid. Tony shook his head, smiling as Steve lifted up the corner of the blanket accepting him back into the warmth.

“Don’t say I never gave you anything.” Tony muttered and drew the envelope out of his pocket.

“You give me everything.” Steve laughed, sliding his finger under the open flap before reaching inside. The smile faded away immediately as he drew out a thin chain and dangling dog tags. He scrutinized them, all the color running from his face. “Tony...what...oh...oh my god, where did you get these?”

“He’s alive.” Tony said tightly. “He’s not...right. He doesn’t remember who he was. My people found him this morning in Russia. I had a hunch...”

“Bucky...” Steve ran his finger over the raised words on the tags, expressionless. “Can I see him?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Tony reached for his phone, “The Quinjet isn’t ready, but you can take my plane. You should get there in a few hours.”

“You said they found him this morning.” Steve frowned. “Why did you wait until now to say anything?”

“Because I’m a selfish prick.”

He contacted his pilot and carefully didn’t make eye contact as he rattled off orders. As soon as he hung up, he called Pepper and then the leader of the Russian group to organize Steve’s arrival. He walked as he talked, pacing through the living room, ignoring the tight knot climbing from the acid bath in his stomach to the back of his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Steve slip away upstairs and eventually return with two suitcases and a thick down coat.

“You’ll be able to bring him back here as soon as you want.” He said mildly after he finally ran out of calls. “I’ll get the bedroom next to yours cleaned out while you’re gone, but it’s possible he’ll need to stay in a secure facility for a while. They think he was brainwashed and it might take a while to get him re-acclimated.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Steve’s eyebrows knit together.

Tony frowned, “It’s your big reunion. Why would I come?”

“How could you think I wouldn’t want you there?” Steve shook his head and pointed to the second suitcase which Tony belatedly recognized as his own overnight bag. “I don’t know what he’ll be like or what he needs or even if he'll remember me. I don’t want to face that alone. You’re my partner.”

“He’s your partner.” Tony pointed out, “For a lot longer.”

“I wasn’t...” Steve flushed. “He was my friend, not my... I wouldn’t have asked you to be with me if my heart was some place else.”

“I know that...I just, you thought he was dead so...”

“I can’t believe you, sometimes.” ” Steve handed him his suitcase. “You spend god only knows how much money, time and effort on some wild hunch and bring back one of the people I miss most in the world from the dead and then think...what? That I would abandon you?”

“No. Of course not. That is clearly crazy and everyone knows that I am a bastion of sanity and reason.” He flashed his best smile at Steve, the one that could sometimes still make Pepper waver when he'd pissed her off. “We should go.”

“I love you, Tony.” Steve shook his head. “I don’t understand you half the time, but I love you.”

“I’m an enigma wrapped in a conundrum.” His smile softened around the edges and he tried not to bat his eyelashes like a fifteen year old girl. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Thanks.” Steve said dryly then hustled him out the door and to their waiting ride.

 

~*~

 

“I see.” A velvet dark voice wrapped around Tony as he blinked slowly awake. Everything hurt, especially his damaged ribs. Had he fallen asleep on the lab table again? “Don’t wake.”

He plunged back into darkness. Loki stood and crossed to him, drawing one long finger over his cheek.

“Forget this hour. It is of no consequence.” He said gently and watched the annoyed line in Tony’s forehead smooth away. “I think I understand you better now. Perhaps Steve is not so very wrong about you.”

Bending he tugged at the hem of Tony’s shirt, nose wrinkling when he saw the extensive damage. Loki possessed no healing arts, his magic never quiet bent that way. He let the wound be. In one elegant move, Loki lifted him into his arms and carried him upstairs as if he weighed no more than a feather. With the tender care he’d shown only one other and that many years ago, he tucked the slumbering hero into bed. Then he slipped away to wait for his family to come home.

There wasn’t long to wait, downstairs a door banged open rousing Tony from a nonsense dream. He frowned, trying to remember how he’d gotten to his bedroom. Had he taken painkillers?

“You’re in bed?” Steve peeked around the door a few minutes later. “It’s not even eleven o’clock yet.”

“Nap taking, I heard it’s a good hobby. Decided to see what all the fuss was about.” He reached over to click on the bedside lamp. “Did you clap until a fairy got wings or do they not show that part in case it croaks?”

“I knew you were a closet Peter Pan fan.” Steve laughed and sat on the bed, setting down a plastic bag. “Pop got Winnie the Pooh’s autograph. I’m not sure who was more excited about that, him or the guy in the costume when he figured out who we were.”

“Did you get me something?” Tony reached eagerly for the plastic bag.

“Maybe- Tony!”

He was already pulling the novelty mug free of the plastic, frowning at the character face.

“You brought me the head of Jiminy Cricket? I mean I always did think he was kind of annoying, but I wasn’t looking for decapitation.”

“That’s not for you.” Steve took it back and rifled through the bag again and pulled out a small light blue box.

“I’m pretty sure Tiffany doesn’t make Disney souvenirs.”

“We might have made a stop before the show.” Steve slid off the bed and onto one knee. Tony stared at him, then pinched himself very carefully. Nothing changed.

“I know things are different now and that people have long courtships,” Steve was saying and Tony forced himself to listen through the incipient panic. “but I love you and we spend too much time almost dying or near death to wait. Will you marry me, Tony?”

“I’m not-” He stared down at Steve and tried to think of all the reasons why it was a terrible idea. But it was Steve.

Steve, who patiently talked to every reporter about their relationship as if it was the best thing that could have happened to him even when they dredged up every terrible headline, all of them true. Steve, who listened to him even when he was rambling insulting nonsense or having nervous breakdown over some impossible problem. Steve, who learned every the lyrics to every terrible song that Tony took a liking too, drew him cartoons in meetings when they were bored, and told him stories about a different world lost in the fog of time when this one got too much for both of them.

“Yes.” What was he doing? “But if you divorce me, I’m taking the shield. I want that in the pre-nup.”

“No pre-nup.” Steve slid the ring onto his finger. It was a smooth band of dark metal, unassuming and flat enough not to snag on anything. “Trust, Tony.”

“I trust you.” He got down on the floor next to Steve, suppressing a wince at the flare of pain. “You’re the most trustworthy person I’ve ever met. Now, I think you’re supposed to kiss me.”

Bathed in the light of the lamp, they kissed until Steve wrapped a hand around him and Tony involuntarily hissed.

“I knew you were lying to me.” Steve pushed his t-shirt up and scowled. “This looks bad.”

“It’s fine. I just need to take some painkillers.” He protested. “The kissing, let’s go back to the kissing.”

“You need to get this looked at.”

“It’s a cracked rib, all they can do is tape it and give me painkillers. Come on, I just got engaged, this is supposed to be romantic or have all those TLC shows been lying to me?”

“You are the most infuriating man alive.” But Steve didn’t reach for his phone.

“If you didn't like it, you shouldn't have put a ring on it.” Tony grinned. “You’re doomed to deal with my infuriating ass forever.”

“I think I can live with that.”

Steve moved in to kiss him again, when something dawned painfully over Tony. Marrying Steve meant getting Loki as a father-in-law.

“I’m going to die.” He buried his face in Steve’s neck. “Your crazy father is going to murder me.”

“I don’t think so.” Steve laughed. “He gave me his blessing before I came in here.”

“He what?”

“He said that you had a good heart and that maybe the two of you were kind of alike.” Steve shrugged. “And then he kind of muttered something about ribbons and rum and wandered off.”

Tony froze, something niggling at the edges of his mind and then unraveling with painful clarity.

“Are you ok?” Steve frowned, tilting his chin up so Tony had to look him in the eye.

No, he thought hysterically, my future father-in-law mind raped me so that he could make sure I was good enough for his son. The father that Steve idolized. The father that finally approved of Tony.

“Never better.” He wrapped a hand around the back of Steve’s neck. “I should probably mention that I love you.”

“That’d be nice.” Steve laughed.

“I do.” Tony said solemnly. “You’ve got all of me. Its mostly broken, but I compensate by being brilliant in and out of bed.”

“You’re not broken.” Steve pulled him closer. “You’re mine.”

He started to point out the flaw in Steve’s logic, then hesitated at the sincerity gleaming from his newly minted fiance’s eyes. Maybe, just this once, just for tonight, things could end happily ever after.

“Kiss me, you fool.” He commanded and Steve, ever the good soldier, did.


End file.
